Every Silver Lining
by Kitsune-Baka
Summary: Just when Rick finally gets the nerve up to ask Lisa to marry him, her father shows up. (AU, post To The Stars)
1. Aftermath of a Nightmare

Disclaimer: Robotech isn't mine, I'm not making any money off it, please don't sue me!  
  
One  
  
With a supply truck on his left and a cab on his right, Captain Rick Hunter threaded the needle as if he'd been strafing between two battlepods. The only difference was, bicycles didn't come with weapons. And, to his knowledge at least, battlepod pilots didn't insult the paternity or hygiene of their fellow drivers. He waited until the cab slowed, then darted quickly ahead of it and through the gate that separated the airstrip from the rest of the base. With the cabbie's insults still ringing in his ears, he pedaled toward the hangar.  
  
Running late, he chided himself, was not a good example to be setting to the new pilots who'd just been assigned to Skull Squadron. He could just imagine Lisa's voice; "You're late, Hunter. Again."  
  
But for some reason, they'd been getting along much better since he'd finally figured out that he loved her. Funny how that worked. Besides, she'd already been off-duty for—he risked a glance at his watch—fifteen minutes.  
  
He'd been hoping to catch her before she went home, even for just a minute. Just to reassure himself that last night's nightmare had been only that. Usually when he woke from them, she was there—they'd been spending a lot of nights at each others' places. But for the past two weeks, Lisa had been working nights. They'd been able to have dinner a few times, but that was about it.  
  
He wondered if that separation was what brought the nightmare on. It was the same one he'd had since Khyron's final attack, though the frequency had decreased from two or three times a night to just once a week or so. But when it did show up, it never failed to shake him. In it, he was watching the SDF-1 disintegrate, hearing Lisa's final scream as the force of Khyron's ship reduced her to component atoms.  
  
Just as he'd realized how much she meant to him.  
  
He took a deep breath, shutting the nightmare out of his mind by an act of will, and forced a smile to his face as he came around the corner to the hangar. The newbs, Fernandez and Mackey, were waiting by their planes. They snapped to attention when they saw him.  
  
"At ease," Rick said, and they both went to parade rest. "No, really. You can relax."  
  
They did, and Rick stepped off his bicycle to give them the rundown on the day's assignment. They would be flying over the northwest quadrant; just patrol duty. "It should be pretty routine," he said, wrapping it up. "So don't worry."  
  
Mackey, a wiry kid with red-blond hair, grinned. "No chance of running into Zents?"  
  
"Let's hope not, your first time out."  
  
"Why not?" Mackey asked. "You don't want us to be bored, do you?"  
  
Rick shrugged his shoulders, trying to loosen the tension that was already tightening its way up through his neck to his temples. It was going to be a long day.

---

Night shifts--she hated night shifts.

Captain Lisa Hayes blinked as she stepped out of the Monument command center, into the too-bright morning sunlight. Night shifts never failed to throw her sleep cycle out of whack, and the worst thing was, just when she had finally gotten adjusted, they'd told her that they were putting her back on days.  
  
Well, days would at least let her spend more time with Rick. Every cloud had a silver lining, she supposed. Like the shuttle bus being seconded to the refugee camp--sure walking back to her quarters was a pain, but at least she got some fresh air. Or at least that's what she kept telling herself.  
  
It had been a month and a half since Khyron's final attack, and things were finally getting--if not back to normal, then at least settled. The refugee camp they'd so hastily set up to receive the New Macross survivors was slowly being emptied, as the relocation teams worked with communities to set up support for people who had been, literally, left with nothing.  
  
It was a job she was just as glad she didn't have to do; it would have ripped open her own wounds.  
  
Besides, she had more than enough on her plate. As she walked, she mentally inventoried the tasks; patrol schedules to be drawn up, reports to be written... theoretically, her next duty shift should be the last one for two days, but there was so much to do so much to do before she could even think of taking a day off.  
  
Before she knew it, she was turning down the street to the Bachelor Officer's Quarters. Almost home...she'd take a shower, have grab a bite to eat, and get some sleep. Then maybe she'd get up in time to meet Rick. He'd been talking about having dinner tonight, assuming nothing popped up while he was on patrol.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of someone who didn't belong; a gaunt and bearded man wearing a backpack. Probably one of the refugees. Well, as soon as she got inside, she could have someone come and take him back where he belonged.  
  
But to her surprise, it was her doorstep he was standing on. He had his back to her; it fleetingly crossed her mind that maybe she walk past and call security from somewhere safer. But no...whoever he was, he'd been through enough. Lisa turned down her path, walked toward him.  
  
Judging by the battered state of his clothes, he'd probably walked all the way from New Macross. Judging by the smell of him, too--he probably hadn't showered in weeks. Well, just get him to the shelters, they'd take care of him.  
  
"Excuse me, sir?" she asked, carefully breathing through her mouth. "Could I help you find someone?"  
  
He turned around, and she got her first good look at him. Caught sight of eyes that had watched over her all her life, though the face was wrong, different... She felt her knees go weak, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.  
  
It can't be, she thought. I saw him die...this is just my mind playing tricks on me...  
  
But then he spoke. One word. Her name. And though whatever hell he'd been through in the past two-and-a-half years had changed his face, his voice was the same as the last time they'd spoken.  
  
She looked up at him, through eyes gone blurry with tears. "Father...is it...is it really you?" 


	2. Reunion & Rebellion

Disclaimer: Robotech isn't mine, I'm not making any money off this story, please don't sue me!  
  
Chapter Two  
  
"Hey," Rick called, "Cut the chatter, you two!"  
  
"What's wrong, boss-man?" Mackey asked. "Has something happened?"  
  
"No, but you need to learn good comm discipline." Rick resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. "Didn't they teach you that at Flight School?"  
  
"Yes, sir," both of the younger pilots chorused.  
  
"Well, see that you put what you've learned into practice," he said. Suddenly, he was very glad that Lisa hadn't been on duty; she might have heard that. He could just imagine her teasing him; "Well, look who's starting to sound like an officer."  
  
Actually, though, he couldn't wait for Lisa to get back on days--teasing or not. He missed just hearing her voice, even when it was for something as mundane as patrol instructions.  
  
For a moment he was tempted to call her--but she was probably already asleep. Instead, he concentrated on riding herd on his two newbies, and tried to ignore the headache that stabbed through his skull.

---

For a moment, Lisa's question seemed to hang in the air--but she didn't need an answer. With a choked sob, she flung her arms around her father. "It's you. It's really you." She buried in her chest, trying to erase the memory of the last time she'd seen him, of the screen flashing bright with the image of an explosion, and then going dark. "I thought--oh, God--"  
  
He held her close, murmuring, "It's okay. Shh. It's okay." His hands closed on her shoulders, clutched like a drowning man at his only safety. What had he been though, she wondered, since that terrible day at Alaska Base?  
  
She looked up, and saw the tears streaming down his face, cutting streaks in the dirt and grime. She was shocked to realize how thin he was; even with the backpack still on, she could get her arms around him He'd always been a big man, solid, but now she was afraid a strong wind would blow him away.  
  
She tightened her grip, to keep that from happening. "Oh, Father..."  
  
"Lisa," he murmured. "I never thought I'd see you again."  
  
So many questions were racing through her mind, so many things she wanted to ask him, so many things she wanted to tell him, but she couldn't put them into any coherent order. Instead, she held him close.  
  
"Hey," someone, one of her neighbors, called out. "Is everything okay over there?"  
  
"Everything's fine," she called. But now, she was starting to feel the chilly wind. And by the looks of him, her father would be glad to get off his feet. She turned and unlocked the door to her quarters. Admiral Hayes limped across the threshold--distinctly favoring his right leg, Lisa noticed--shrugged out of the backpack, and dropped onto the couch. He stretched his leg out, grimacing as he did so.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"All right. Yes." He scrubbed his hand over his face, smearing tears and dirt. "My little girl--alive--how could anything possibly be wrong?" Lisa laughed, overcome by the sheer joy of the moment, and hugged him again. It could only be described as a miracle.  
  
"But--how?" she asked at last. "I saw the explosion--"  
  
His eyes lost focus for a moment, his face twisting in remembered pain. Lisa knelt beside him on the couch. "Father--it doesn't matter. The important thing is, you're here now."  
  
Hayes blinked, pulling himself out of whatever memories still lurked, and smiled up at her. "My little girl. That's all that matters."  
  
"Of course."  
  
He sagged against her, and closed his eyes. For a moment, Lisa thought she could feel his bone-deep exhaustion--but then he straightened, and frowned down at the filthy clothes he wore. "I'm sorry. I should've gotten cleaned up before I came."  
  
"Probably a good thing you didn't," Lisa said. "You have no idea how determined the shelter personnel are. Once you showed up at the refugee camp, they would never have let you go!"  
  
"Oh? I didn't realize they had an army to back them up."  
  
Lisa laughed, imagining just how overmatched the relocation corps would be against her father. "Why don't you take a shower while I fix us something to eat."  
  
Hayes pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he did so, and stood swaying. Lisa moved to support him, but he shook his head. "I'll be fine. Nothing wrong with me that getting off my feet for a few days won't fix."  
  
"Of course." Lisa fought to keep the concern out of her voice. "Do you have any clean clothes?"  
  
He looked over at the backpack. "I couldn't spare the room."  
  
"Well, I'm sure I can scrounge up something."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
She poked through her drawers and found one of her oversized sleep shirts and a pair of sweatpants Rick had left. Well, that would have to do. She slipped them through the door, and went to the kitchen to see what she could fix. She wasn't much of a cook, but there had to be something....  
  
Soup, bread, a hunk of cheese. She could work with that. As she worked, she took a moment to think about Rick. She wanted so badly for him to get along with her father. Deep down, she knew they had a lot in common, but between Rick's insubordinate attitude and her father's overprotectivness, she knew that they could just as easily rub each other the wrong way.  
  
She glanced out the window, at the blue sky, the same sky Rick was flying through now. She hoped he was having a nice, uneventful day.

---

"Skull Leader, please come in." The nasal whine of LCDR Tanya McIntire cut through Rick's thoughts. It was times like this that he missed Lisa's cool, calm voice. Even when she was screaming at him, her voice didn't have the fingernails-on-chalkboard effect that McIntire's had.  
  
But being stuck with McIntire couldn't be helped, so he touched the screen. "Yes, Commander."  
  
"We've got reports of Malcontent activity we want you to check on. I'll transmit the co-ordinates."  
  
So much for a nice, uneventful day herding newbies. "I'm on my way." Rick checked the readout, then banked his VT to put him on a course for New Detroit. Quickly, he briefed Mackey and Fernandez about the situation.  
  
"Malcontents?" Mackey asked, sounding for all the world like a kid whose parents had promised him a bike for his birthday.  
  
"Yes, so be on your toes when we approach," he said, before Mackey could start rhapsodizing. "Our ETA is about ten minutes."  
  
He did his best to tune out Mackey's excited chatter. Of its own accord, his hand wandered to the box he had tucked in one of the pockets of his flight suit, just over his heart. A tiny thing, really--but with all the focus of life being on survival, not luxury, the price of diamonds had quadrupled. The ring was worth more than a year's salary; he'd cleaned out his savings to buy it.  
  
He only hoped he worked up the nerve to actually put it to use--and soon.  
  
But the tower of smoke in the distance pulled him from his reverie. "Time to go to work," he muttered, as he switched to Guardian mode and dove in for a better look.

---

Lisa was in the process of setting the table, when her father came limping back into the room. Clean-shaven, his hair cut--though unevenly--he looked a lot more like himself. But now that she could see his face better, Lisa was shocked by how gaunt he was; cheekbones protruding from skin that had pulled tight against his skull. She also noticed a scar that bisected his left eyebrow.  
  
But then, she supposed no one had gotten through the war unscathed.  
  
"Sit down," she said. "The soup should be just about heated through."  
  
---

The smoke hung like a pall over New Detroit city; Rick followed it, the newbies in his wake, to a manufacturing center on the southeast side of the city. There were three battlepods and half-a-dozen suits of power armor down there.  
  
Rick sent out a call to the rest of the Skull. "Looks like I'm going to need some backup. What's your ETA?"  
  
"Five minutes," the answer came back.  
  
"Okay, we'll try and keep them out of the city until you get here. Mackey—"  
  
But Mackey was already diving into the fray. And not, Rick realized, from the town side of the area.  
  
"Mackey, break off and come around," he called. "You're going to drive them into the city!"  
  
But Mackey was too intent on what he was doing. The battlepod he had lined up in his sights leapfrogged back, heading, Rick realized, for a residential area. He switched to F mode for a burst of speed, banked, and switched back to Guardian.  
  
"All right, Mackey, we'll try to catch him in our crossfire." And you and I are going to have a little talk, as soon as this is over.

---

Three grilled-cheese sandwiches and two mugs of tomato soup later, Admiral Hayes had finally eaten his fill. Lisa sipped the last of her own soup, watching him, irrationally afraid that if she took her eyes off him for too long, he'd vanish. "When was the last time you ate?" she asked.  
  
"Yesterday morning. Once I saw the skyline, I didn't want to waste any more time."  
  
"I can understand that." She picked up the dishes and dumped them into the sink. There'd be plenty of time to clean them up later. "Is there anything else you want? Tea?"  
  
"No, I'm fine, thank you." He looked at her. "So--I remember you told me about a pilot you were seeing. Did he...make it?"  
  
"Yes. In fact, he was the one who got me out--" Out of Alaska Base, she'd meant to say, but she didn't want to cause her father any more pain by reminding him.  
  
But he only smiled. "I'd like to meet him sometime."  
  
"Well, he was talking about taking me to dinner when he got back from patrol. Hmm--we need to get you some better clothes."  
  
"Yes, that's--" Whatever he was about to say was lost in a yawn. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Let me guess--you haven't slept since yesterday morning, either."  
  
"No," he admitted.  
  
"Why don't you get some sleep, then. We'll have plenty of time to talk, after you've rested up."  
  
"No--I'll be fine." But his eyes were already starting to drift closed. If she didn't do something soon, Lisa thought, he'd drop off right there at the table.  
  
"Come on, Father." She pulled him to his feet, and prodded him toward the bedroom. "I'll still be here when you wake up."  
  
"I can take the couch."  
  
"No, you'll take the bed. I'm going to be up for a while, anyway." She still had three reports to write, and the next week's patrol schedules to work up. "I'll be right out here if you need me."  
  
He sat down on the bed, but looked up at her. "Promise me. You won't just leave." His eyes held the same desperately fearful look he'd had the first year or so after her mother had died, as if he were afraid she would vanish if he looked away from her for too long. "If you have to go on duty, wake me up."  
  
"Of course," she reassured him. "Now get some sleep."  
  
Hayes eased himself into the bed, and Lisa pulled the covers up over him. She had a sudden flash of memory--how many times had he tucked her in at night? Back then, he'd been her hero, her rock, the center of her universe. She'd assumed, with the naiveté of childhood, that parents were indestructible. Even after her mother's death, her father had been there. "The original immovable object," she murmured.  
  
Admiral Hayes--the gaunt, exhausted man who'd somehow survived everything the Zentraedi and the wilderness had thrown at him--made a questioning noise from the edge of sleep. Lisa stood looking down at him for a few long, long minutes before she went out to work on her reports.

---

Rick switched to Battloid mode, swinging the gatling gun up to engage the Zentraedi who'd decided that breaking into the construction bay was a good idea. "This is your last chance. Surrender, or find yourself under fire."  
  
The Zentraedi had clearly spent plenty of time among Humans--he extended a yard-long middle finger in Rick's general direction, before taking a swing at the Rick's Battloid with a heavy beam.  
  
Rick kicked out, knocking the Zentraedi down--but then, another one appeared around the corner.  
  
Rick sighed. "Looks like it's going to be a long one." 


	3. Family Dinner

Disclaimer: Robotech isn't mine, I'm not making any money off this story, please don't sue me!  
  
Chapter Three  
  
By the time they managed to subdue the last of the power-armored Zentraedi and turn her over to the local authorities, the sun was barely peeking above the horizon. The adrenaline that had kept Rick's headache at bay during the fight had long since worn off, and he was bone-tired and butt- sore.  
  
But just because the fight was over, didn't mean his day was. For one thing, he still had to manage to fly his fighter back to Monument. For another--there was that talk he had to have with Mackey.  
  
Reluctantly, he touched the screen. "Hunter to Mackey."  
  
"Wow, boss-man, that was fun."  
  
"Not much fun for the people on the ground, I'm afraid," he said. "You're lucky you didn't get someone killed."  
  
"What do you mean, killed?"  
  
"When you made your first attack, you almost drove that battlepod into the city." Fear lent an edge to Rick's voice; getting innocents caught up in a battle was every pilot's, every soldier's, nightmare. "The manufacturing zone backs up against a residential neighborhood."  
  
"Oh, sorry about that, boss-man."  
  
"Just be glad that someone isn't saying 'sorry' on your behalf to a mother who's lost a child."  
  
"Hey, look, nothing happened. I wish you'd just let it drop."  
  
"I'm your C.O.," Rick said. Lisa would definitely laugh her butt off if she were listening in. "Your actions are my responsibility. Not only did you carelessly endanger civilians, but you didn't respond to my calls."  
  
"I'm sorry, Captain. I guess I just--I've never flown combat before. The simulations don't begin to show it. I didn't even hear you in all the chaos."  
  
It was just plausible, Rick had to admit. But... "No matter what happens, Mackey, you need to keep your ears on. You're not alone out here; you could fly into friendly fire, keep someone from their target--or send the enemy into a civilian area."  
  
Now, at least, Mackey looked contrite. "I'll work on it. I'll do better next time."  
  
"See that you do," Rick said. "If you can't, you have no business flying combat missions."  
  
Mackey saluted, and cut the channel, leaving Rick alone with his thoughts. He couldn't help feeling he'd mishandled that one.  
  
When he saw Lisa, he'd bring it up to her--not the specifics, just enough to get her opinion on how best to handle the situation.  
  
But before he did so, he'd take her to dinner. There was something else he wanted to ask her first.

---

Lisa blinked and looked around, wondering for a moment why she'd decided to sleep on the couch. And then she remembered. "Father!"  
  
She went to the bedroom--and hesitated for a moment, hand on the knob, afraid that it had all been a dream, that she would find her bedroom empty.  
  
She took a deep breath, and pushed the bedroom door open.  
  
It hadn't been a dream--her father was still sprawled on the bed, open- mouthed, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. He'd kicked the blankets off, and even through the shirt he wore Lisa could count his ribs. She pulled the covers back up over him, and went downstairs. She still had the patrol schedules to shuffle.  
  
And she wanted to call Rick--to tell him the good news.  
  
"While I'm at it, I'd better tell him to be on his best behavior," she murmured. "Ha--like that would do any good anyway."  
  
She called the command center. "Tell me, has Captain Hunter returned from patrol?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Ma'am. He's just finished conducting mop-up operations in the New Detroit area. Shall I give him a message?"  
  
"That's all right," Lisa said. This wasn't exactly something she could leave in a message--Rick would think she was losing her mind. "I'll try again later."  
  
For now, she had work to do--and of course, the dishes that she'd neglected earlier. It didn't take long to do the dishes and tidy up her quarters; the habits of a lifetime insured that.  
  
She bent down by her father's backpack, and opened it. There wasn't much in the main compartment; a parka, a tarp, some candles and a box of matches. One of the side pockets held a battered cold-climate survival manual, a bible, a journal, and an envelope of photos; in the other was a small portable radio, tuned to the Civil Defense frequency. A couple of empty canteens were tucked into the bottom compartment, and there was a sleeping bag strapped beneath the pack.  
  
No food anywhere.  
  
She knelt there for a long moment, staring into the empty backpack, remembering her father's gaunt face. How long, she wondered, had it _really_ been since he'd had anything to eat?  
  
She re-packed the backpack and put it in the closet, along with his well- worn hiking boots. Then she went to the bathroom for the rest of his clothes--jeans, a turtleneck, a sweater, and a heavy denim jacket. She doubted that she could get the grime and the smell out, but she wrapped them securely in a plastic bag before putting them in with the rest of the laundry. On his belt were a hatchet and two knives--a Swiss Army knife and a survival knife. She put them into the closet with the rest of his things, before going to look in on him once more.  
  
He lay still, unmoving except for the steady rise-and-fall of his chest.  
  
She left the door open, so that she could hear if he needed her, and went down to her paperwork. Once she'd actually gotten started on the patrol schedules, they didn't take too long. She looked in on her father once more, then settled down to read.  
  
When she looked up again, it was 2100 hours; she'd have to leave in a couple of hours. But first she needed to figure out what was for dinner. The refrigerator yielded nothing of interest, so she settled for ordering pizza. A large--that way her father could eat his fill, and she'd still have enough for a snack after she got off-shift in the morning.

---

Finally. Home.  
  
Rick's VT touched down with a screech of tires on asphalt, and he taxied it to the hangar. He was only too happy to turn it over to the ground crew, while he went to file his report.  
  
When he came out, he found Max waiting for him. "So, Commander, did you do it?"  
  
"Do what? Oh, you mean Lisa." He touched the velvet box again, through the fabric of his uniform jacket.  
  
"I take it that's a no," Max said.  
  
"Every time I plan to ask her--well, it never seems like the right time."  
  
"Didn't you take her to that new French place, just last week?"  
  
"Yeah, but before I got a chance, the Malcontents attacked Granite City, and we got called back to the base."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"And before that, I took her on a picnic--but we were invaded by ants. It doesn't get much less romantic than that."  
  
"Well, third time's the charm," said Max--always the optimist.  
  
"Yeah. Right."  
  
"She's not scheduled to be on duty for another hour and a half. If you hurry, you can catch her."  
  
"You mean _now_?"  
  
"No time like the present."  
  
"But I wanted it to be romantic. Perfect."  
  
"It doesn't get much less perfect than a murder attempt, but Miriya and I have done just fine."  
  
"I know, Max." He sighed. "And you're right. I should go."  
  
"Now?"  
  
"You said it--no time like the present."  
  
"Great! And--good luck, Boss!"  
  
"Thanks!"  
  
He could have called a cab, but by the time it got there, he could be halfway to Lisa's. He grabbed his bike and started pedaling, heading for her place. It didn't take long to get there; the officers' quarters were conveniently located near the command center.  
  
He had a key--he could have just walked in--but a marriage proposal seemed to call for a certain amount of formality. He straightened his uniform, raked his hands through his hair, and knocked on the door. Lisa answered a moment later, with her wallet in her hand.  
  
He blinked at her, puzzled, for a moment. "Were you expecting someone else?"  
  
"I ordered pizza. I thought this was a bit early, but--" A grin broke over her face. "Come in! I've got some wonderful news!" she said--just as he said, "I wanted to ask you something."  
  
She blushed, he stammered, and they both said "You first," at the same time.  
  
"I mean it," Rick said, suddenly nervous. "You first."  
  
"No, you go first." But she still had that smile.  
  
"Really," he said, "You go first."  
  
Which was when he saw, over Lisa's shoulder, a man walk out of the bedroom. He looked like a scarecrow, all lines and angles, wearing a pair of sweatpants that didn't quite come down to his ankles, and one of Lisa's sleep shirts. The pink one.  
  
The gaunt man rubbed his eyes. "Am I interrupting something?"  
  
"Um..." For all the oddity of the man's appearance, there was something familiar about him. Rick frowned, trying to remember, couldn't place where he knew the man from.  
  
Lisa glanced over her shoulder, her grin getting wider. "Rick--that's what I wanted to tell you, my father, he's alive!"  
  
Rick just stood, blinking stupidly, for a moment. But then reflex took over; he snapped to attention, hand coming up to salute. "Admiral."  
  
Admiral Hayes returned the salute, and then extended his hand, smiling. "So, you're the one who's been looking after my little girl all these years."  
  
Rick took his hand. "Sir, it's been my privilege."

---

Lisa let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She'd been half- expecting Rick to make some sort of wiseass comment or, more likely, fumble for something that sounded vaguely like English. Probably the latter, coming into the situation unprepared. Instead, speaking from his heart, he'd given the best possible answer. Rick and her father were smiling at each other. Though they had fallen into an awkward silence; they both looked a little relieved when someone knocked at the door.  
  
"Must be the pizza," Rick said. "I'll get it."  
  
Lisa looked at her father. He nodded approvingly, but before he could say anything, Rick turned back toward them, pizza box in hand.  
  
"Smells good," her father said. "Though to be honest, anything would be better than ration bars."  
  
Lisa remembered the empty backpack, and winced. But she said nothing; the last thing her father would want was Rick's pity. Or hers. He'd always done his best to be strong for her.  
  
Rick set the pizza down on the living room table, and they sat down to eat. This suited Lisa just fine; as long as Rick's mouth was full of pizza, he wouldn't have room for his foot.

---

While they ate, Rick studied the Admiral warily. He should have been ridiculous, dressed in a woman's pink sleep shirt, gaunt to the point of emaciation. But he still had a dignity to him; even now. Most people, and Rick included himself in that number, would probably have inhaled the pizza. Instead, he was doing his best to engage in small talk.  
  
He shouldn't be here, Rick chided himself. Lisa and her father had a lot of catching up to do--and not only about what had happened during the past few years. Lisa had told Rick, one day not long after Dolza's attack, about the last face-to-face conversation she'd had with her father. How he'd threatened to throw her into the brig if she'd tried to return to the SDF- 1. She'd had tears of her eyes when he told her about her biggest regret-- that she'd never gotten the chance to tell him that she understood.  
  
Now that she had that chance, he wasn't about to keep her from it. He chewed and swallowed his last bite of pizza. "I should be heading home. Early patrol tomorrow--you know how it is.  
  
"So soon?" Lisa asked.  
  
"Yeah. Um." He glanced from Lisa to her father, and back. "I'm sure you two have talking to do. But, um, the base exchange should still be open. I mean, if you need me to pick up anything for you, sir. Like maybe a shirt without kittens on it?" he suggested helpfully--and winced as he heard the words that were coming out of his mouth.  
  
"Rick--" Lisa's voice had that warning tone again.  
  
Hayes studied him for a moment, then turned to look at Lisa. "Basic observational skills. Always a good sign."  
  
Rick felt his face get hot. But then he realized that the corner of the Admiral's mouth was twitching, and he suddenly knew where Lisa got her dry sense of humor.  
  
Lisa realized she was being teased, and let out a giggle. But Hayes turned his attention back to Rick. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to put you out of your way."  
  
Rick nodded, secretly relieved. "All right, then, I'll head out." He wanted to kiss Lisa, but not in front of her father. "Uh--bye."  
  
He'd just opened the door, when Lisa spoke. "Wait--Rick--what did you want to ask me?"  
  
His hand went to the little velvet box--but that would have to wait. And not just for tomorrow; Admiral Hayes added another layer of complication. "It'll keep." Before he could dig himself deeper, he sketched a wave, and made his escape into the cool night air.

---

Lisa stared at the closed door for a moment, but then her father cleared his throat, pulling her back to reality.  
  
"I apologize," she said. "For Rick, I mean. He's not usually..."  
  
"That nervous?" her father suggested, with a hint of a smile.  
  
"No," she said. "I wish I'd had a chance to warn him."  
  
"So he'd have a chance to work up a good case of nerves?"  
  
"Hmm--I never thought of it like that."  
  
"He did better than I did," her father said. "At least he managed not to spill anything."  
  
"Oh?" she asked. "This I have to hear." Which was when she caught a look at the clock. "But not now. Excuse me." She went to her room and snatched a fresh uniform from the closet, realizing that she'd never managed to get a shower. She pulled her shoes on and finger-combed her hair, then grabbed a light coat for the walk.  
  
"I'm sorry, Father," she said, as she came back into the living room. "I hate to run out on you. It's just--"  
  
"You have to go on duty," he said, pushing himself to his feet. Lisa saw him wince as he got his right knee under him.  
  
"Sit back down," she ordered. "I've still got time to get you a book or something."  
  
"It's all right," he reassured her. "Once I'm on my feet it's not so bad."  
  
"Define 'not so bad'."  
  
"More than well enough to cross the room on my own power." He smiled at her. "Now go. Don't worry about me."  
  
"I do, though," she said; she hadn't planned it, it just slipped out. "I should be here--what if you need something?"  
  
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then changed his mind. Instead, he limped across the room and opened the door. "No excuses," he said. "Get to work."  
  
She came to attention and snapped him an exacting salute. "Yes, sir, Admiral."  
  
For just a moment, his eyes darkened in pain, but then he smiled. "That's my girl."  
  
"Call me at the command center if you need me for anything," she said, suddenly awkward. "Anything at all. The number's by the phone."  
  
"I'll be fine," her father said. "Go."

---

Rick had fully intended to head home, but instead, he found himself heading for Max and Miriya's. When he realized where he was, though, he hesitated. It was after 2300 hours--almost midnight. Too late to be bothering even his best friend.  
  
Except the light was still on, and he could see a silhouette moving around. Dana must be keeping them up again.  
  
He knocked tentatively on the door. If no one answered, he'd just go. He turned to leave--but before he'd gotten halfway down the path, he heard the door open.  
  
"Rick?" Miriya called after him. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you."  
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
"I--I--just--" He looked at her helplessly.  
  
"Come in," she said. "Maximilian is trying to get Dana to sleep, but perhaps I will have better luck."  
  
"Thanks," he said.  
  
She disappeared into the back room, and a moment later, Max emerged. He was in his pajamas, his blue hair messed. "Rick--I thought you'd be with Lisa." He looked worried--a rare change from Max's usual optimism. "She didn't turn you down, did she?"  
  
"I didn't even get the chance to ask her."  
  
"What happened to 'no time like the present'?"  
  
"Her father happened."  
  
"I'm not following you."  
  
"Lisa's father is alive."  
  
"How? I thought he died in Dolza's attack."  
  
"I don't know." Rick frowned. "But I can only guess what kind of hell he's been through. He looks like he's walked all the way from Alaska."  
  
"Oh, man." Max ran his hands through his hair.  
  
"So I can't propose to her right now. She's got more important things to think about. Maybe in a few months, once everything's settled out. Assuming the Admiral doesn't veto the whole thing."  
  
"Come on, you don't really think Lisa would let that happen?"  
  
"I guess--I really feel like an imposter. Like she deserves better, and I've just been fooling her, fooling both of us, but her dad can see right through me."  
  
"Why, what did he say?"  
  
"Nothing." Rick slouched on the sofa. "In fact, he seemed kind of, well...nice. No, that's not the word. But...he's not what I expected." When Lisa had talked about her father, she'd described a harsh, remote man; protective, but autocratic and unbending. And she'd certainly never mentioned anything about a sense of humor.  
  
But he supposed that a couple of years alone in the wilderness was enough to change anyone.  
  
Or maybe Lisa's perceptions of her father had been--not wrong, exactly, but colored by their history, the problems they'd had.  
  
In any case...  
  
"They need time, Max. Time to repair their relationship. I want to be there for Lisa, I want to help her with whatever she needs, support her any way I can. But I think the best way I can do that is to not push it." He pulled out the box that held the engagement ring, and studied it for a long moment. "This will still be here when I need it." 


	4. Friendly Advice

Disclaimer: Robotech isn't mine, I'm not making any money off this story, please don't sue me!  
  
Rick Hunter had had some weird dreams in his life, but this one had most of them beat. For some reason, he'd gone to a spa for a beauty treatment, and, even stranger, he'd ordered the peanut butter wrap.  
  
Peanut butter wrap? He hadn't even known such a thing existed.  
  
The beautician patted his face, smoothing out the sticky, mudlike substance. "Dana!" she called out. "Dana, stop it! Oh, Rick, I'm sorry!"  
  
He blinked--or tried to. Because whatever the sticky substance was on his face, it had been plastered over his eyes. He wiped ineffectually at it, and Miriya--he was awake enough now to realize that it was her voice he'd heard--said "Hang on, Rick, let me get you a washcloth."  
  
"Good plan."  
  
He felt Dana's hands patting his face again, and levered himself to a sitting position, out of her range. His feet got tangled in the blanket that Max had loaned him, so he ended up in an awkward, half-curled position.  
  
What time is it, anyway? I hope I didn't oversleep again.  
  
"Here you are," Miriya said, handing him a damp washcloth. He rubbed it over his face, and got himself cleaned up enough to get his eyes open. Then he retreated to the bathroom to get the rest of the peanut butter off his face.  
  
"I'm sorry about that, Rick," Miriya said.  
  
"Don't worry about it. I should have thought about this before taking Max up on the offer of couch space."  
  
Miriya giggled, sending Dana into gales of laughter. A stab of jealously went though his heart; he'd always wanted a little girl.  
  
But now...  
  
"Max isn't up yet," Miriya said, breaking into his thoughts, "but if you're hungry, I can get you a bowl of cereal or something."  
  
"No. I'll grab something on the way. Thanks again for letting me spend the night."  
  
He jogged back to Lisa's place to get his bike. The lights were all on , but he didn't knock on the door. He didn't need to compound whatever bad impression he'd already made on the Admiral by showing up with peanut butter on his uniform. Instead, he rode home to grab a quick shower and a fresh uniform. While he munched on a piece of toast, he looked through his closet. He grabbed an oversized windbreaker, and hopped back on his bike, heading for the command center.  
  
He got there half an hour before he was supposed to leave on patrol, which meant Lisa would still be there. He called up to tell her that he was leaving the windbreaker, so that her father would have something to wear over the kitten shirt, but to his surprise, she said she'd be right down.  
  
"Hey, Lisa." He felt suddenly awkward.  
  
"Rick, I'm glad you came." She put her arms around him, and kissed him, deeply enough to take his breath away. When they came up for air, she said, "I'm sorry about giving you a shock yesterday."  
  
"It's okay. I, uh, guess it's not really something you can plan for."  
  
"No." Her green eyes took on an amused sparkle. "Though I had hoped to catch you before you came over."  
  
"I'm sorry. I should have called."  
  
"Don't be silly. You know you're always welcome." She sighed. "Although I suppose my new roommate would probably appreciate the warning."  
  
"Yeah. How's he doing, by the way?"  
  
"He's--I don't know."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"He's hurting. Not just the knee, though I think that's worse than he lets on." She sighed. "I'm going to take him to the doctor after I get off shift."  
  
"Then it should be fine."  
  
"Yeah." Except there was obviously more on her mind. "Rick. Do you ever think about...when you rescued me?"  
  
"Which--oh right." Of all the times he'd rescued her, there was one that would be foremost in her mind now. "Lisa, from what you told me, you had every reason to believe he was dead."  
  
"Did I?' she asked. For a moment, her eyes lost focus. He could see she was back there again, in the dark and the smoke and the horror that he could only imagine. She'd told him only the barest of details of what had happened; her father had contacted her, urging her to get out of Alaska Base, but they'd gotten cut off when an explosion had rocked the central core. The screen had gone dark.  
  
Rick had been there to rescue her, once again. That was his clearest memory of the day; Lisa running into his arms. But for Lisa...  
  
"You did everything you could," he said. "How many search and rescue flyovers did you order?"  
  
"I should have gone myself."  
  
"You were needed on the SDF-1. You knew that."  
  
"Yes, but..." Her green eyes took on a downcast look, and he could take a guess at what going through her mind. He knew she'd tried to get search and rescue teams to Alaska Base, but Admiral Gloval had vetoed the idea of sending people inside the shattered ruins. It was too dangerous, he'd said, and they were needed elsewhere.  
  
Gloval had been much more than a commanding officer to Lisa, Rick knew; he'd been a surrogate father as well. The last thing she'd want was to blame him for what had happened to her father. But the only alternative was blaming herself, and he didn't want to see her do that, either.  
  
"You did everything you could," Rick reassured her.  
  
"Everything I could?" she echoed. "I just...left him there, Rick. I didn't even try--"  
  
"You didn't think there was a reason to try."  
  
"If our positions had been reversed, my father would have been there, digging with his bare hands if he had to, until he found me." Her eyes shone with tears. "I took one look at a blank screen, and walked away."  
  
"That's not fair, Lis, you're being too hard on yourself." Time to try another tactic. "Do you really want to go home to your father all teary- eyed?"  
  
"No..."  
  
"You've been given another chance to make things right with him. That's what you need to concentrate on now, not what-might-have-beens."  
  
"But how do I make this right? How can I ever make it up to him?" She looked up at him through teary lashes.  
  
"I don't know," Rick was forced to admit. "But I think he loves you enough that you can get through this."  
  
She nodded, and leaned against him. "Oh, Rick. I don't know what I'd do without you."  
  
"If you need anything, just ask, okay?"  
  
She nodded, and brushed the tears from her eyes. "Oh--speaking of asking, what did you want to ask me last night?"  
  
"I just wanted some advice on dealing with one of my subordinates. It can wait." He held out the windbreaker. "I just wanted to bring this by, so your father could have something else to wear."  
  
"Something without kittens on the front, you mean?"  
  
He found himself blushing. "Well--yeah."  
  
"I'm sure he'll appreciate that." The twinkle was back in her eyes. "Thank you, Rick." She kissed him again, making his heart skip a beat. "I have to go; they'll think I've deserted. Give me a call when you get home from patrol."  
  
"I will." 


End file.
